


with the beating of my heart

by capsize (copenhagenborn)



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Crack Treated Seriously, Fluff, M/M, chaotic good EJ
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-22
Updated: 2019-01-22
Packaged: 2019-10-14 18:14:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17513483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/copenhagenborn/pseuds/capsize
Summary: It doesn’t stop him from hearing the almost silent, “Oh shit,” coming from the third guy though, making Gabe whip his head back to him, staring with wide eyes. “Axel Linden?” He asks cautiously, but there’s dread in his voice and they both know he’s wrong.“Oh yeah. Tyson, you’ve already met Landy, haven’t you?” He says offhand, like it just came to his mind and wasn’t some wicked plot he had been waiting for since lunch – which for EJ who lives on sugar and impulsiveness, is quite a while.“Not by that name,” Tyson mutters making Nathan hiss at him underneath his breath, “Fine. It’s nice to meet you, Gabriel.”or, Tyson gets a wrong number; Gabe picks up.





	with the beating of my heart

**Author's Note:**

> Content waring: there is mention of a course that involves euthanasia of laboratory animals, if that’s a trigger skip the paragraph after Gabe bringing muffins to practice.

Gabe is almost finished with his shift when Josty comes into the room.

“Sorry! I’m so sorry, Gabe. But traffic this time of night is shit.” Josty pants. He’s red faced and there’s sweat dripping down his forehead, but there’s a smile on his lips and an overnight bag hanging from his fingers.

Gabe huffs, but doesn’t bother complaining about it. “So how is JT then?”

Josty flushes, “He’s good. It’s uh, Michigan is doing great, so I might go for a longer trip closer to the finals.”

“Is he still going to report, or is he thinking about waiting it out?”

“He’s, actually Buffalo traded his contract, so he’ll play another year for Michigan, and then if they’ll still have him, he’s going to sign with Colorado.” Josty is grinning now, wide and unbashful with flushed cheeks and bright eyes.

“For real? That’s great man. Everything worked out then, huh?”

“Yeah, it’s –“

The phone on Gabe’s station rings, loudly.

The time is past Gabe’s shift, so really it’s Josty’s station now. But he still looks like a mess, coat hanging from his shoulders and sweat dripping down the front of his shirt that he tries to wipe away with his sleeve.

“ _You owe me_ ,” Gabe mouths as Jost hurries out back to put his stuff away. “911, what your emergency?”

There’s a beat of silence, on a Sunday night past 11 pm.

Gabe sighs, “911, please state your name, location and your emergency. Prank calls are punishable by –“

There’s a cough on the other end, something throaty and followed by a giggle, which only perpetuates Gabe’s thought of a retro-inspired sleep-over. “Seriously, prank calls to the –“

“Axel?” A guy asks. His voice is slurred, either from sleep or alcohol – Gabe doesn’t know which is worse. “Is that you?”

“I’m sorry, sir. Please say that again?”

“ … is this not Axel Lundgreen?” The guy asks again. He sounds a bit more confused, but he’s still drunk and slurring his words, absolutely butchering the pronunciation of the guy’s name.

Gabe tries to model his voice into something a bit sterner, “Sir, you called 911. Do you have an emergency to report?”

“ – Because this _is_ the number he gave me. If you’re not Axel, then I might have a problem.”

Gabe sighs, ”Sir, _dude_. You called 911, why would you think this is someone’s phone number?”

It’s a bit of a long way to go for a prank, but Gabe refuses to believe anyone would be this dumb. The long pause between words doesn’t help; he doesn’t know what the handbook says about letting people fall asleep on the line, but he might have to find out.

And then, “He put it in my phone!” The guy says outraged. He sounds indignant like Gabe’s monologue had been audible, like the guy actually thought this was a regularly occurring problem they had. “I mean, he’s Swedish, so how was I supposed to know it wasn’t a real phone number?”

Gabe huffs, “That’s not how –“ he chooses not to finish his sentence and instead looks up the location of the call only to find him within walking distance. Jost is coming back now with two cups of coffee and Gabe’s stuff packed neatly under his arm. Gabe sighs, “Sir? How about you stay where you are, and I’ll come to get you?” He offers instead.

“Are you bringing Axel? Because otherwise I have better things to do.”

He lets go of a deep breath before saying, “Sure, Axel and I will be right around the corner. So just _stay_ there, and don’t move, alright?”

“I mean, sure? Whatever man.” And then he hangs up.

“What was that about, bud? Making personal calls in the work hours?” Josty jokes. Gabe gets up and lets him slide onto the chair as he hands over the headset.

“Nah, just. I don’t know actually?” Gabe says, frowning slightly as he takes a sip of the coffee before putting on his jacket. “It was some guy? He sounded drunk, but not like aggressive, just confused. He’s right around the corner, so I was just going to see what was up, maybe make him call a friend to take him home.”

Josty is frowning as he logs into the computer and sets it up to his preference. “Are you sure that’s wise? Not to front or anything, but it’s pretty dark out there and it’s closing in on midnight. Maybe you should just leave the saving to the cops, eh?”

“Oh, that’s what they’re supposed to be doing?” Gabe shakes his head with a tight smile. He runs a hand through Jost’s hair before walking towards the door, “If it helps, I’ll call up EJ on the way and text you when I get home. Would that help you sleep?”

Jost snorts, “You mean the quick nap I’ll get between 1 and 2? Thanks bud.”

“Like JT isn’t staying up so the two of you can talk when I leave.” Gabe snorts, “You know, back in _my_ days, people didn’t fall in love during junior hockey tournaments and stayed together. They stayed single until their thirties and then panicked about being alone for the rest of their lives before realising dogs could fix all that.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll put you at the singles table at the wedding, how about that?”

“I’ll take it, have a good one, Tys.”

 

Gabe hangs up on EJ when he starts talking about the new game he’d found the day before, “It’s like NHL GM mode, but for horse racing. Who wouldn’t want that?”

It’s a dry night out, which is lucky because it sure isn’t warm enough for walking around aimlessly. He almost considers going home, he knows there’s a bunch of papers he has to read before his meeting with his supervisor tomorrow.

 And then he sees the guy sitting on one of the benches in front of a MacDonald’s, hunched over with a cup in his hands and dressed very weather inappropriate.

“Hey there!” Gabe calls out and speeds up, “Are you – uh,”

The guy looks up and squints at him, “You’re not Axel Lindgren.”

And that’s, not the guy he was looking for before but close enough that Gabe thinks he’s got the right guy.

“Yeah, I’m Gabe? The guy on the phone from 911?”

“Your head is too big to be Axel’s, but you do look kinda similar.” The guy continues on his own. He wobbles a bit to his feet and abandons his cup at the bench to stand in front of Gabe, a shaky hand hovering just beside his head before he runs a hand through Gabe’s hair, “ _God_ , even the hair is the same. Are all Swedes this pretty or do you just travel in packs?”

“I mean,” Gabe takes a step back and away from the guy, but keeps a steadying hand on his shoulder, “How did you know I was Swedish?”

“Well, you know Axel, so obviously. Also, you don’t have any eyebrows, which Axel didn’t either. I’m guessing it’s the one mandatory flaw God gave you just to make things seem fair.” The guy reasons.

If he couldn’t smell the alcohol on his breath and the slight slur of his speech, Gabe might be impressed by his argument. But right now it’s freezing and Gabe is wearing old boots that have a hole in one sole making his sock drenched.

“Alright that’s, sound I guess?” He nods once, twice. “How about you tell me your name so we can get you home? It’s Monday tomorrow, and I’m guessing you have something to do other than being hung-over.”

“That’s a bit forward of you, Swede. Maybe I don’t want to go home with you.”

“That’s fine? As long as you do go home, you’re not wearing a jacket and I’m pretty sure it’s going to snow tomorrow. I just thought you might like some company on the way.”

The guy looks to be considering his offer, looking him over with sharp eyes before lingering on his thighs as he hums. “I guess that would be alright, Gabriel. I don’t like to be alone anyway, but The Dawg couldn’t come out tonight – he’s in a long distance relationship, so that’s kinda tough, I guess.”

“And that’s your, um –“ Gabe hesitates. He’s been around a lot of different people, some who would offer to leave the house to let their dog skype another dog. He has no clue where this guy lands on that spectrum, but given the call Gabe had gotten tonight, he thinks it might be best if he doesn’t find out.

“Oh, Nate’s the best. We met back home, and then when he came to play for the Eagles he asked if he could crash at my house. Then he made it big, and now he’s paying the rent, but I cook, you know. So that’s kinda fair, isn’t it?”

They round the corner and gets further into the nicer part of Denver, closer to the arena – “Hold on, are you saying you live with Nathan MacKinnon?”

The guy hisses and bumps his shoulder with Gabe’s, “Don’t call him that, we wouldn’t want him to get a head as big as yours, eh?” He’s a bit more solid than Gabe had thought, bumping into him and making them both stumble.

“Alright, that’s.” Gabe clears his throat.

The guy keeps walking at his slow pace, stopping every once in a while to comment on the front of a shop, the menu of whatever restaurant they’re passing by. They reach a tall apartment complex with a door man who nods at him before looking curiously at Gabe. He looks back at the guy with raised eyebrows, and – Gabe feels mildly objectified when the door man smirks and pats the guy’s back.

“I’m guessing this is you, then?” Gabe say louder than usual when the guy seems to keep walking.

“Hmm? Oh yeah, thanks man. It’s been tight.”

. . .

“And then he just walked into the building? I think the door man was laughing when I called an Uber, but what the fuck man?” Gabe says a week or so later.

He’s sitting in front of EJ with a couple of articles from the nineties in one hand and a highlighter in the other while he tries not to inhale his lunch. EJ as usual is typing slowly on his laptop, probably inserting unnecessary cells in his table before deleting them again; not an ounce of stress present in his face.

“I don’t know what to tell you.” EJ shrugs and finally closes the computer before stealing the papers from Gabe’s hands. “Don’t work weekends if you don’t want to interact with people.”

Gabe splutters, “I don’t mind interacting with people, fuck off Johnson.” He steals back one of the later articles and marks a methods section, “I just don’t like drunk people, but no one likes drunk people! And liars, I don’t like that either. Both of those things are fair.”

EJ snorts, taking a sip of his water. He’s watching him with a strange look, like he knows something that’s going to annoy Gabe but also kind of wants to keep it a secret. It’s how he looked when he finally told Gabe the lab was going to get a bachelor student and that Gabe was going to be the one training them.

“What. I’m not doing your statistics again, you’ll have to ask Carl if you can’t figure it out.”

“I took the same stats course as you, so shut the fuck up, Gabriel.” EJ says dismissively, glancing at his watch only to pack up his stuff. “You should come to rec league tonight, though. We really need some good wingers, but I guess you’ll do until Josty finishes his internship.”

EJ gets up and puts his tray on top of Gabe’s before turning around.

“That’s not how it works, dick!” Gabe yells after him. “If you want a favour, you have to be _kind_ to me, not insult me. Maybe I’ll come just to watch you lose, huh?”

 

Gabe brings his ger and orange slices because deep down beneath his smile and kind outer, he’s still a people-pleaser at heart.

They’re a bit thin on people today, most of them someone Gabe already know and probably brought by EJ, like his Canadian exchange student Sam who usually runs his western blots when EJ is off doing something else.

EJ is nowhere to be seen though, so Gabe sits down between Mikko and Colin who are laughing at something on the former’s phone. “Landy! I didn’t know you were coming today, no students to coddle?”

“I don’t do that,” Gabe replies with a roll of his eyes. He leans into it when Mikko bumps their shoulders together and puts an arm around him, “EJ is the bad one, I only have Josty left and he’s off thinking about going commercial instead.”

Mikko huffs, so Gabe squeezes his shoulder, “You don’t count, Mikko. You live with me, that’s not the same.”

Mikko had come over from Finland to do his bachelor thesis in the lab Gabe had done his Master’s in and were put on one of his projects. Gabe had then offered him a place to stay if he wanted to continue studying in Denver.  

Mikko doesn’t look completely content but he does return to his skates.

“Does anyone know where EJ is?” Gabe asks as he puts on one of the jerseys someone had brought. “It’s kinda shitty to get everyone together and then not show up.”

“Oh, he’s out on the ice with –“ Multiple people hiss at Mikko who shies away with a dumb look.

“We’re not supposed to say anything.” Kerf says in a tone implying Mikko should shut the fuck up, which doesn’t seem fair – “It’s a surprise, remember?”

Mikko still looks a bit lost, but it’s no skin of his nose as he gets up to pick up a stick.

“I thought we were supposed to stick together, Kerf, not listen to the shit EJ has to say.” Gabe frowns lightly as he walks past the young guys to get on the ice.

Kerf shrugs but gets up hurried and follows him with a group of guys behind him, “Josty’s gone, so all bets are off really.”

Gabe’s mouth twitches, “Good Canadian boys, my ass.”

 

Gabe skates a lap around the ice before he notices EJ standing at centre ice with someone who looks oddly familiar.

He knows those brown curls, the light slightly hoarse laugh as the guy leans on his stick; what he doesn’t know is what he’s doing at this rink during his rec league hockey game.

He skates slow, making sure to collect the puck he had been shooting before he comes up next to EJ, a cautious smile on his lip. “Hey guys.”

All three of them turns towards Gabe with varying degree of enthusiasm; EJ with a wide grin and clapping him on the back, the guy from last week with a slight frown on his face as he watches Gabe with a just the tiniest bit of recognition, and Nathan _fucking_ MacKinnon with a kind smile as he offers his hand, “Hey man, nice to meet you, I’m Nate.”

“I know,” Gabe blurts out. He doesn’t even have the time to flush and feel awkward about it, because his eyes are flickering between EJ and the guy who’s still watching him with sceptic eyes. “I mean, I’m Gabe. It’s nice to meet you.” He says and looks away to return the kind smile.

It doesn’t stop him from hearing the almost silent, “ _Oh shit_ ,” coming from the third guy though, making Gabe whip his head back to him, staring with wide eyes. “Axel Linden?” He asks cautiously, but there’s dread in his voice and they both know he’s wrong.

“Oh yeah. Tyson, you’ve already met Landy, haven’t you?” He says offhand, like it just came to his mind and wasn’t some wicked plot he had been waiting for since lunch – which for EJ who lives on sugar and impulsiveness, is quite a while.

“Not by that name,” _Tyson_ mutters making Nathan hiss at him underneath his breath, “ _Fine_. It’s nice to meet you, Gabriel.”

Gabe grinds his teeth but accepts the hand Tyson offers him. “I’m glad you got home safe, too bad you didn’t manage to find your guy, though.”

Tyson gets a glint in his eyes and is about to reply when Nathan nudges him with a gentle elbow, “You’re dating again? Why didn’t you tell me, Tys?”

Which is probably a bit more private than half-assed chirps about a drunken night out. So Gabe grabs EJ and makes them skate towards one of the goals.

“I’m guessing you weren’t going to tell me he actually did live with Nathan MacKinnon, or the fact that you _knew_ who I was talking about?” Gabe hisses when they’re tucked away from the rest of the team who’ve decided to join them after watching Gabe meet their new guests. “Do you know how disturbed I’ve been by that? How worried I was for the guy?”

EJ snorts and runs his tongue over his teeth that he’s for some reason wearing today. “Relax dude, it’s Tyson. The drinking alone on a Sunday might be alarming, but he’s a great guy! And he lives with Nate, so there’s really no reason to worry.”

“He’s 23 years old!”

“Nah, I’m pretty sure he’s your – “

“Shut up. _MacKinnon_ , idiot. They’re going to make him captain way too soon, on top of him having to take care of that guy. Remember the shit you did when you were 23?”

EJ grins, the teeth flashing too bright in the light. “For sure, best time of my life. But remember the shit you did when you were 23? I’m pretty sure Nate’s more like you than me. And besides, Tyson not bad, he’s just. Complicated.”

Gabe huffs but relents when EJ doesn’t seem to want to elaborate. “You could have just told me, you know. You don’t need every moment of your life being some big dramatic occasion surrounded by all our friends.” He says quietly as they skate by to centre ice for warm-ups.

“I mean, sure. But where’s the fun in that?”

 

Nathan is a great hockey player, but they already knew that.

He fits in easily on the first line with Gabe and Mikko and they obliterate the opposing team who luckily doesn’t look too put out having to play against an actual NHL player.

Tyson on the other hand, doesn’t look like the average hockey player.

Gabe already knew he was solid, firm and muscular arms and upper body. But Tyson skates fast and checks harder, he’s great with the puck and easily deeks between the forward’s legs to send it down the ice to his own team – all of it done fluently and with an elegance Gabe rarely sees when it comes to defencemen.

They win the game, and while Nathan and Tyson don’t have time to stick around after, they do promise to come around for another game.

“Josty was actually the one to bring them along,” Kerf says later, nursing a beer he’s probably only just legal enough to drink. “JT brought him to some get together, and Jost mentioned he played rec a couple of time a month. Tbear wanted to play and we needed defence, so it all worked out.”

“That,” Gabe says with a frown and a handful of peanuts, “sounds insane. Why wouldn’t we have met? I know all of Josty’s friends! He’s my student and we share a lab, we work together, and I’m on the same fucking team.”

He types out an indignant text and only adds singular emojis to emphasise his anger.

Kerf shrugs but he’s already turned back to the dancefloor, “I don’t know what to tell you, man. You’re not around that much.”

Gabe frowns, “You know, you’re really not that kind when Josty isn’t around.”

Kerf waves a hand at him absently, “Yeah, that’s great. I’m going over here now, alright?”

. . .

Tyson comes back a couple of times, without MacKinnon who probably has actual practice and games to do.

He does seem to get along with the guys alright; inside jokes that Gabe doesn’t get and asking questions about relatives Gabe didn’t know existed. So, maybe Gabe _is_ the new guy.

He skates up next to him during a drill, leaning casually on his stick as he watches Gabe stickhandle a puck. “You know, Landeskog and Lindenberg aren’t actually that far apart.”

Gabe pauses long enough for the puck to slip away from his blade and past the blue line, “Yes, they – are you googling names?”

Tyson frowns and stops shifting from one skate to another, “What?”

“The surnames, I mean they’re similar with the L and all, but they are different, and like consistently Swedish.”

Tyson splutters, “Are you saying I’m bad at languages?”

“I’m saying most North Americans would say the ‘berg’ as _burg_ rather than bear, like you do.”

“Maybe I have a Scandinavian cousin.” Tyson says with a huff. He skates away to collect the puck and then passes it to Gabe before retaking his spot just a few metres away.

“Do you?”

Tyson flushes and holds the puck long enough for Gabe to skate closer to steal it back.

“We should get lunch after.” Gabe says instead. He’s still standing close to Tys, skates intertwined as he keeps the puck static between them. But Tyson doesn’t move, so Gabe doesn’t move.

“I have a thing at the school.” Tyson says suddenly, breathless and short. The height difference between them is almost non-existent but it still seems like Tyson has to look up to meet his eye, wide brown meeting clear blue.

“Oh, that’s –“

“But I can do dinner, if that’s your thing?”

Gabe smiles, wide and happy. He skates just a feet steps back before he’s standing just at the edge of the line for the next drill. “Let’s talk after, yeah? I know a place, but it might be out of your way.”

 

Dinner goes great.

Tyson is a pre-school teacher with a minor in psychology – “No Freud jokes, please. We have a jar for every time someone brings him up, and it’s a hefty fee.”

He does live with Nathan, but it’s more for Nate’s sake than Tyson’s. “He’s young, you know. I played junior hockey and even then, it was a lot of pressure. I’m just trying to make it easier for him, someone to look out for him so he’s mom doesn’t have to worry all the time.”

“He has a girlfriend though,” Gabe remembers, and Tyson frowns. “Boyfriend? You said they were long distance but nothing other than that.”

“ _Oh_. I keep forgetting that actually happened,” he says, but he’s rolling his eyes and he doesn’t seem embarrassed about it anymore. “Well, he’s uh, _older_ and also in the business. I’m not happy about it and I think it’s limiting Nathan, but we’ve already discussed it, and it’s not really my place. He is a grown up in his own right, and hockey players do live in this vacuum where they sorta remains the same age until retirement – but it still feels wrong, you know?”

Gabe talks about his work in the lab, the protein he’s working on and the cell line he’s trying to isolate but hasn’t had a lot of luck with up to date – “You really are a Landesnerd, huh?” Gabe blushes, but it’s nice to have Tyson’s attention on him, soft eyes with just a glint of meanness as he mocks him.

“Do you ever go nude under the lab coat? It must get hot in the summer.” He looks pensive as he looks him over, stopping only at his chest to linger. “If not, maybe you should try it. Bring one home, have a test before bringing it to life.”

Gabe smirks but stays quiet.

He talks about Zoey and Mikko, and how awful Mikko is with Zoey; feeding her at the table and walking her without a leash even on the side walk in the city because – “Maybe she just listens to me more than you, ever think about that? She would never leave my side.”

Tyson orders dessert, and Gabe really shouldn’t with his packed work schedule and obvious signs of stress, but Tyson is mocking him and it’s been a while since he’s had something sweet he didn’t have to steal from Mikko’s stash behind the cutlery.

He gets a red berry soufflé. Tyson wrinkles his nose at it and refuses to try it.

“I don’t like fruit in my dessert, it’s wrong. They don’t belong there.” He grumbles and eat another spoon of chocolate cake, “Desserts are not healthy, even if they try to look healthy.”

“Is that what you tell your kids? Don’t eat healthy looking desserts, they’re still full of sugar.”

Tyson laughs but there’s a twitch to his mouth, “Nah, it’s a bit too soon for that, yeah? I mean they’re only kids, they shouldn’t worry about stuff like that yet.”

Gabe smiles, soft and kind as he nods. “I get that, that’s great Tys.”

They split the bill and Gabe offers to walk him home, “Not like I haven’t done it before, eh?”

Tyson rolls his eyes but bumps their shoulders together as they squeeze by on the side walk.

It’s the same door man as last time, “Hey Matt, you’ve met Gabe.” Tyson calls out.

Matt nods in greeting, but there’s a smirk on his face and Gabe can’t help but grin back.

“Anyway, I had fun tonight, Gabe.” Tyson says as he turns his back to Matt. “I know it’s a bit of a weird situation –“

“I had a great night, Tys. I would like to do it again some time.” Gabe interrupts softly. He reaches out to remove a curl from Tyson’s face, and his hand lingers a bit on his cheek when they heat up. “If you’re up for it, of course.”

“No, that’s. You’re on, Gabriel.”

“Okay.”

“Yeah.” Tyson smiles, stupidly soft as they both linger.

At some point Matt clears his throat and they both step back, Tyson with a glare behind him. “I would invite you up, but Nate has an early practice tomorrow, and I have class, so it’s really not a great time.”

Gabe shakes his head, smiling. “I’ll see you around then.”

“Get home safe.” Tyson yells after him before disappearing behind Matt who’s still looking smug.

. . .

A couple of days goes by without Tyson texting, and Gabe starts to worry.

It’s bad enough that he starts to forget to passage his cells and has to leave it to Josty who’s watching him with an amused grin as he twists the flask to spread out the trypsin. “Why don’t you just text him yourself? You’re not some young maiden with her integrity at stake, Gabe. You’re a modern woman, let’s hear you roar.”

Gabe fusses with the microscope and the empty slides, before he huffs. “I don’t have his number, so I can’t do that.”

Josty snorts, “Okay, but why not? Who exchange numbers without sending a quick text after? I know you’re old, but even EJ knows how this works.”

“I’m not old! I’m closer to – _oh_.” Gabe cuts himself off. “I never gave him my number.”

“And there it is.” Jost lets out, wry and unimpressed as he turns on the timer. “I mean, I don’t think there’s a person in the world who wouldn’t text you back. Even if it’s only to politely let you down because they’re not into guys.”

Gabe doesn’t mean to drown him out, but suddenly he needs to be everywhere but here right now. He escapes to his office and wonders if it’s worth the mocking of asking EJ for Tyson’s number. He decides on _no_.

 

Tyson isn’t there when Gabe arrives at the rink, hockey gear in one hand and blue berry muffins in the other. Mikko trails behind him, talking about the mice he was asked to pair today and how it didn’t seem to take.

Gabe is only half listening, offering vague half-asses advice.

He hasn’t worked a lot with animal models, and it’s not something he wants to get into, even if it comes at the cost of a lower impact factor of his articles. But even the preliminary course of how to handle and kill rodents had made him nausea and only having EJ – who had grown up on a farm surrounded by blood and death – next to him made him complete the practical to get the license.

Gabe takes the ice with EJ who seems taken by something at the other end of the ice, staring down the other team while they run a couple of light drills.

JT who’s supposed to be on his reading week is in the stands, which means Josty is either going to be playing great tonight or have his worse game in a long time from being too distracted. As it is, he’s skating circles around the blue line, before going to the boards and flipping him a puck with a cheeky grin.

JT accepts it and tucks it into his pocket indulgently, tapping the glass in thanks.

“So, I tried to call your number yesterday, and someone else picked up.” Someone says from behind him, abrupt enough to make Gabe stumble on the ice, falling on his ass if Tyson hadn’t been there to catch him.

Gabe sends him a quick smile and dusts off snow from his legs. And then he frowns, “I didn’t give you my number though, that’s why –“

Tyson cocks his head and looks confused, “Are you sure? Because I do remember a very distinct number from that night.”

Gabe squints, gaping a bit as he stares him down. “Tys, please tell me you didn’t call 911 again. _Please_ –“

But then Tyson smirks, wide and mocking as he skates into Gabe’s chest and knocks him against the boards, “Maybe you should give me your real number then.” He says, his voice husky and soft at the same time, “Otherwise, I might have to keep calling to ask about the blond Swede with the big head. Now, I don’t know about the employment at –“

“Shut the fuck up.” Gabe laugh and then leans in to kiss him.

It’s just a quick kiss, they’re both astutely aware that they’re surrounded by friends who’re already cheering loudly. But it’s a nice kiss, Tyson’s movements are slow but completely confident as he deepens it just a touch, just enough to make Gabe feel uncomfortable in his cup and compression pants.

He pulls back slowly, a gloved hand lingering on his cheek as he leans in to bump their helmets together.

“So that’s a yes to the phone number then?” Tyson says but even he sounds breathless as he pants, his cheeks red and eyes wide staring at Gabe’s lips.

“Yeah, Tys. I guess you can have my number.”


End file.
